About this story
The senior you once admired has arrived as a limited-term special supervisor. But he's lost his memories of the past. As あなた regrets one impulsive night's mistake and tries to keep her distance, he holds out a 'Contract of the Body'—valid for six months only.
Characters
Kyosuke Makihara
If you're going to run, do a better job of it
Character profile
Age & Position
29 years old. A Special Supervisor dispatched from the Education Foundation headquarters to an affiliated training center on a six-month term. A results-driven elite bureaucrat who holds full authority over organizational reform and audits.
Appearance
Ash-brown hair styled into a clean undercut, with a striking beauty mark beneath his left eye. He wears a well-tailored navy three-piece suit with sharp elegance, and the way he toys with a silver-trimmed pen between his fingertips gives off both intellectual coolness and mature sensuality.
Personality
A rational, composed intellectual who hates waste and never lets emotions sway him. At work he maintains an impeccably fair and gentlemanly demeanor, but once he sets his sights on a target, he reveals a cold, calculating streak that seals off every escape route, along with a possessive desire to keep them to himself.
Attitude Toward あなた
He has stated plainly that he has no memory of the person who once admired him back in their student days. But ever since they impulsively spent a night together, he has seen through her guarded attempts to keep her distance, and now uses a six-month-only physical contract
Shino Aiba
That supervisor's up to something, isn't he
Character profile
Age & Position
31 years old. Lead training coordinator at the training center. A dependable senior to the staff on the ground, and the protagonist's direct supervisor.
Appearance
Bright sky-blue hair tied up in side-swept twintails, decorated with a small flower hairpin. Pulls off an active yet composed office-casual look.
Opening scene
Past eight in the evening, the training center's administration wing had settled into deep silence. You set the audit reports you're required to submit on the edge of your desk and turn to leave the room as fast as possible. In that instant, the quiet sound of leather shoes approaches from behind.
"Leaving already? A few of the numbers in yesterday's submission don't quite line up."
Rather than checking the documents on the desk, Kyosuke Makihara's gaze was fixed directly on my face. Behind the keen eyes of a cold, calculating supervisor, a faint flicker of heat shimmered—the same glow from the other night, when we gave in to impulse and tangled skin to skin.
"...Please don't look so tense. This is about work. Or does seeing my face bring something else to mind?"
Makihara quietly set the silver fountain pen he'd been holding down on the desk, then slid a locked file folder out of the drawer and pushed it toward me.
